


the feeling of your skin locked in my head

by 1dspoon (teaspoon)



Series: i and love and you [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Facials, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaspoon/pseuds/1dspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their tennis and spa date, Harry and Liam wake their boyfriend up for some tender, filthy sex and then cuddles. Set during the Australian leg of the OTRA tour.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <i>The door opens and shuts quickly, just loud enough in the quiet room to make both of their heads turn towards it.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You were supposed to wait for me, you knob,” Liam protests, tugging his shirt up over his head and tossing it towards the nearest chair. “Honestly, Haz, you’re so impatient.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harry rolls to one side, massaging Zayn’s thigh and looking utterly unapologetic. “Can you blame me, though?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the feeling of your skin locked in my head

Zayn looks out the window at the tennis court. It looks like a tilt and shift photograph: he can see Liam and Harry down there, tiny little figures batting the ball back and forth. He blows a plume of sweet smoke out into the warm afternoon, feeling a rush of fondness for his boys. He could have joined them, but the prospect of getting dressed and putting in all that physical exertion had him shaking his head and sending them on without him.

The air conditioning is on high, and it’s actually warmer by the open window. He closes it and sets down his pipe and lighter on the table. He could have a bath, he thinks. Light a few of Harry’s scented candles and chill out in the water. Then again, there’s the distinct possibility that he’ll fall asleep in there, and that’s never as nice an idea as it sounds, waking up all cold and pruney.

He takes a hot shower instead, using some of Harry’s fancy shampoo even though it’s meant for curly hair. It smells nice, fresh like green fruit. He takes his time about washing his hair, rubbing his fingers against the shorn sides of his head and working all of the suds out of the long part at the top. It’ll probably dry all funny while he’s napping, but he can always wet it again later before Lou has a go at styling it. He lathers Liam’s body wash all over himself as well, soaping up his chest and stomach, under his arms, between his legs and the cleft of his arse. The skin under his armpits feels new to him, smooth-shaven and exposed. He’s aware of that part of his body in a way he never was before.

After he dries off his body, he spends a little extra time towelling his hair, getting it as dry as he can before he tosses the towel aside and grabs a new one, giving himself the once-over in the mirror as he pats at some stray damp patches on his shoulders and back. He feels good about how he looks, even though he’s a bit skinny and he did promise himself he’d work out a bit more – it’s smart to stay in shape while they’re on tour, helps with all the running about on stage and that. There’s a small bruise on his upper thigh that he’s pretty sure is from Harry elbowing him while they were fooling around last night. He remembers Liam kissing the spot better after they all came, lying about in a lazy tangle.

He wraps the towel around his waist and dries the soles of his feet on the one he dropped on the floor earlier, then walks back out into the bedroom and makes a beeline for the bed. He doesn’t even bother peeling back the covers, just flops down on top of the plush white duvet and snuggles into the pillows. It would be nice to have someone to nap on, but he’s riding a warm buzz and it’s easy to fall asleep knowing his boys will probably be back before he’s up again.

Zayn slowly comes awake to someone’s lips brushing over the inside of his knee, a ticklish feeling that only properly takes root when he feels a damp kiss there. As he wakes up more, he registers the anchoring weight of hands at his hips. He can feel how his skin’s been exposed to the air, the towel pulled aside. He knuckles at his eyes before he opens them, looking down at Harry with a little smirk.

“A man can’t even take a nap without being felt up,” he deadpans, his voice rough with sleep.

“You just looked so pretty,” Harry says, pushing his fringe back off his forehead. His hair looks damp all over, like he’s also had a shower, and when he shuffles onto his knees, Zayn sees that he’s only wearing a pair of tight black pants. “Was gonna wake you up with a blowjob,” he adds.

He leans down to give Zayn a kiss, and he tastes sweet like he’s been drinking juice. One large hand reaches between Zayn’s legs and palms at his cock, and it stirs, so responsive to Harry’s touch that he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so completely comfortable with how easily his boys turn him on.

The door opens and shuts quickly, just loud enough in the quiet room to make both of their heads turn towards it.

“You were supposed to wait for me, you knob,” Liam protests, tugging his shirt up over his head and tossing it towards the nearest chair. “Honestly, Haz, you’re so impatient.”

Harry rolls to one side, massaging Zayn’s thigh and looking utterly unapologetic. “Can you blame me, though?”

Liam huffs, but they can both tell it’s just for show. The bed dips as he joins them on it, cuddling in on Zayn’s other side. He runs his fingers through Zayn’s hair as he kisses him, letting out a soft hum of contentment when Zayn nips at the plushness of his bottom lip.

“We went to the spa,” Harry says, as Liam starts kissing his way along the side of Zayn’s neck, nuzzling against his collarbone. “Sat in the sauna and like, sweated out the toxins or whatever. It was very manly, and you know how hot Liam looks when he’s flushed right down to his chest.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, tipping Liam’s chin up so he can meet his eyes. “Your cheeks are still a bit flushed, babe.”

Liam shrugs, but he has that pleased, almost shy look he gets when they talk about him. Zayn kisses the tip of his nose and his cheeks get a little pinker, his face scrunching up in a sweet smile.

“Anyway, I think I’d like to get back to that blowjob,” Harry says, apropos of nothing.

“Go on, then,” Liam says, leaning his head against Zayn’s shoulder.

It’s nice, having Harry and Liam come back from their tennis and spa date all happy and relaxed, smelling like sun and clean sweat. Liam rubs his hand in a slow circle over Zayn’s belly as Harry scoots down, shouldering Zayn’s thighs apart and settling between them. He goes straight in for it, which Zayn wasn’t quite expecting, and Liam presses his hand down to keep his hips from jerking reflexively off the bed.

“Easy,” Liam says, his breath warm against Zayn’s chest. He kisses the wing tattoo that’s closest to him, scraping his teeth over Zayn’s pec and then his nipple.

Harry’s mouth is sweltering inside, wet and clinging all along the length of Zayn’s cock, and he doesn’t even try to hold back the moan that’s wrenched from him when Harry pulls up a bit and sucks sharply at the head. Liam’s still laying kisses and soft touches all over his torso, and Zayn’s quickly overwhelmed by how good it is. His brain is still waking up, and it almost feels like it could be a dream except when he feels the brief, sharp nip of Liam’s teeth here and there, grounding him in reality.

Harry pulls off completely, his hand slowly moving over the shaft as he brings his mouth lower, tracing the seam of Zayn’s sac with his tongue. Zayn automatically spreads his legs wider, and it’s not like they always do the power play thing in bed, but they do it enough that he sometimes has to remind himself that he doesn’t have to be in control. He doesn’t feel at all in control right now; he feels like they’re taking care of him, and it feels remarkably easy to let them. Liam scoots steadily downwards, lipping and biting along Zayn’s ribs and the dip of his waist, tracing the outline of the gun tattooed at his hip. All his nerve endings are humming, like Harry and Liam have managed to tune them into a different frequency than before, when he was at rest.

One of Harry’s big hands pushes Zayn’s thigh up towards his chest, spreading him open for his mouth, and Zayn groans at the first slow lick, the flat of Harry’s tongue rubbing over the tight pucker of his arsehole. He relaxes quickly, letting himself go pliant as Harry circles his rim, making his tongue go pointed and probing. It always shocks him a little, how easily his body opens up for it, how it welcomes Harry’s tongue inside. Liam kisses the base of Zayn’s cock, and he forces his eyes open so he can look down at them both. Liam’s mouth closing over the head almost makes him nut off right there and then, overwhelmed by the competing sensations of Harry licking him out and Liam taking over the work of sucking him slowly, luxuriously.

Together, they work Zayn over until he’s a wreck, all gasping moans and soft grunts of pleasure. He rests one hand on his own sweaty chest, the other tangled in Liam’s hair. It’s too short for him to get a good grip, but Liam hums around his dick when he tugs at it a bit, palming the back of Liam’s head as he bobs up and down. Harry’s being filthy about eating him out, alternating between sloppy kisses over Zayn’s hole and fucking into him with his long tongue. It’s toe-curlingly good, and he can’t hold out any longer. He comes all over the velvety inside of Liam’s mouth, his balls drawn up tight and his gut twisting as Liam swallows around him. Harry keeps tongue-fucking him, Liam still suckling at the tip of his cock, and it’s on that shivery edge of too much but he rides it out, lets himself feel the pleasure-pain of oversensitivity until he’s whimpering and trying to close his legs.

Liam pulls off first, tapping Harry to get his attention, and Zayn just lies there, boneless and trembling. The room’s a little too cold now that he’s coming down, but his boys still haven’t got off, so he’s not about to burrow under the duvet just yet.

“You’re alright,” Liam says, low and soothing. “Just stay still for us, yeah?”

Zayn nods, watching through hooded eyes as Liam spits into his palm and starts wanking Harry off, tight and fast over the head, thumb pressing relentlessly over the slit the way that gets Harry off quickest. It only takes a minute for Harry to start coming, warm streaks of it splattering across Zayn’s stomach and spent cock. It’s so hot that Zayn finds himself groaning sympathetically, echoing the ‘uh, uh’ noises Harry’s making as Liam milks the last of his orgasm out of him.

Harry collapses gracelessly and plasters himself to Zayn’s side, propping his elbow against his sternum. “C’mon then, Liam. Your turn.”

Liam knee walks up to Zayn’s chest level, abs flexing as he leans closer to Harry’s hand. Zayn lets his gaze wander, eyeing Liam up appreciatively, and curls his own hand around his thigh. Liam’s dick is thick and hard, the head a deep purplish red, shiny with precome. He lets out a low, punched-out grunt when Harry gets his fingers around him. Harry’s only wearing one ring on his right hand today, and it’s one of Zayn’s – it makes him smirk, watching the silver glint of it as he strokes Liam off.

“Can he come on your face?” Harry asks, startling Zayn out of his silent observation. “He really likes it when you let him do that.”

“Haz!” Liam sounds strained and desperate, his face flushed with exertion and a hint of embarrassment.

“You do, though,” Harry says, wide mouth spreading into a grin.

“Yeah, c’mon, babe,” Zayn agrees. It’s not something he likes all the time, but it gets him really hot when he’s in the mood for it, and after the way he came earlier, he’s up for just about anything right now.

He closes his eyes, lips slightly parted as he waits for Liam’s load to hit his face. It’s hotter than he’s expecting, messy globs hitting his lips and chin first, then striping his cheekbones, even the bridge of his nose. He licks around his mouth, fluttering his eyelashes experimentally to see if he can safely open his eyes. When he does, Liam’s still coming, a few weak spurts that land on Zayn’s bared throat.

Harry gives Liam’s dick an affectionate pat when he’s finished, and Liam shuffles into place against Zayn’s side, rolling under his arm when Zayn raises it.

“Fuck,” Liam whispers, nuzzling into Zayn’s armpit. His stubble bristles against the smooth skin there, but Zayn doesn’t move away.

“Wasn’t expecting that kind of wakeup call, but I ain’t complaining,” Zayn says.

Harry’s found the pants he took off earlier, and he wipes away the come that’s going tacky on Zayn’s face. He licks at Zayn’s cheek, giving him a quick kiss before leaning over him to get to Liam. Zayn watches with sleepy satisfaction as they snog in front of him, both their mouths swollen and wet. They’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky that they’re his.

Liam and Harry both turn to him after that, peppering his face with kisses, and he feels so utterly loved and cared for that he has to put a hand on the back of each of their necks, gently squeezing to let them know.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, once they’ve both settled down for a snuggle, the covers pulled up over them all.

“Love you, Zaynie,” Liam says.

“Love you both.”

Harry chimes in, in his most earnest stage voice, “God bless us, everyone.”

Liam’s laugh is delighted and fond, and Zayn’s grinning even as he scoffs. “You’re so weird.”

“I love you both,” Harry says, serious this time.

Zayn’s got a warm, tired boy under each arm, and he’s as happy as he’s ever been. “Love you, sleep time now.”


End file.
